


We Could Be Happy, You And Me

by ktfics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post-New Dangan Ronpa V3, vr au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 13:36:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktfics/pseuds/ktfics
Summary: The three of them moved in together as soon as the game ended, but the things left unsaid between them have only multiplied.Kaito, Kokichi, Shuichi, and the slow process of learning to live with each other in more ways than one.





	1. Out Loud

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't gonna post this on ao3 because it was so short but I've decided to add more to it so I figure I might as well upload it! Follow me on tumblr @dykeenvy to talk oumota!

Everything comes to a head during group therapy a month after they move in together.

Momota is yelling at him for one reason or another; Kokichi’s lost track if it’s because he forgot to do the dishes or replaced Momota’s hair gel with paint or because he got four people killed during the game.

Well, three people and one rat, he thinks to himself, and giggles a little, because it’s funny, it is.

Saihara watches on with those wide, gentle eyes of his as Momota snaps at him, “What the fuck are you laughing about now, huh?” and this has gone on for long enough.

“If you’re going to hit me, just get it over with.” Kokichi interrupts Momota with an expectant tone of voice and for a second, the other boy finally fumbles.

“What?”

“C'mon,” Kokichi smiles wide because as far as he’s concerned, he’s already won this argument. “I know you only keep me around because you feel guilty. So just do it. Hit me, yell at me, kick me out. Let’s get this done and over with.”

Momota looks back to Saihara, concern evident in his eyes, before he looks back to Kokichi with that same concern. It’s disgusting. Kokichi fights down the shudder that erupts across his body. “Do you- do you want me to punch you? Do you want us to kick you out?”

“What I want,” Kokichi enunciates with a roll of his eyes, “is for you to stop lying to me. It’s going to happen eventually, but you’re both too polite to say anything! Might as well just bite the bullet now and get rid of me before this gets even more ridiculous.”

Saihara’s soft voice finally speaks up from Momota’s side. “If you’re so sure we’re going to kick you out, why haven’t you just left?” The question is gentle, inquisitive, and not mean-spirited in the slightest. It still grates at Kokichi’s nerves despite Saihara’s kindness, or perhaps that’s what makes it even worse.

The world narrows down to the three of them, all of their other dead classmates and the therapist retreating into the background. Kokichi thinks about how he had gotten a paper cut once and Saihara had ran to the nearest store to buy band-aids just for him. Kokichi thinks about Momota making his pancakes with extra chocolate chips every morning even though they were supposed to be saving money.

More than that, Kokichi thinks about Momota and Saihara, how they shared a bed together most nights, how they always welcomed each other home with the same fondness in their voices, how they would sometimes reach for the same thing, almost as if in sync, and both blush bright red when they accidentally brushed hands.

Kokichi thinks about how it should make him burn with jealousy. Kokichi thinks about how it doesn’t; it makes him burn with something else entirely.

“Don’t,” he hisses out through clenched teeth, “Don’t make me say it out loud.”

And just like that, Momota and Saihara’s gazes widen with something like realization, though Saihara is admittedly quicker on the draw, and he finds himself having to look away.

Kokichi has been surrounded by people that wanted nothing more than to hurt him for his entire life. He’s gotten very, very good at making sure they leave him before they get the chance to do that.

Saihara and Momota may not want to hurt him, but an action does not need intent behind it to be taken.

Saihara and Momota may not want to hurt him, but that doesn’t mean they want him around, and he certainly should never have let this go on for so long.

Kokichi turns and runs out of the room, and doesn’t wait to see if Saihara and Momota try to follow.


	2. Unadmitted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a third part added to this from Shuichi's point of view!

At first, Kaito had thought that Ouma was like a cat. Living with him is practically the same as living with a cat, after all.

Ouma was constantly making a mess, and walking around like he owned the place, and knocking glasses off of counters just to watch them break. Ouma also does that same thing that cats do, where he stares at you like he wants attention and then runs away when you dare to approach him directly.

Kaito had a cat, once. He can’t quite figure out which life it was, and that irks him more than he’d like to admit, but he knows she had gotten hit by a car and Kaito hadn’t found her for hours later.

Kaito looks at Ouma and still sees the mess of his body under the press, and the smell of him, and he can’t help making the comparison to his cat lying alone in the middle of the road, reduced to roadkill. Kaito looks at Ouma and then looks away, thinking of everything it must take to reduce a boy to roadkill, thinking of the hand he played in the process.

Kaito makes Ouma’s pancakes with extra chocolate chips even though God knows they don’t have the money for it, even with Shuichi’s winner’s bonus, because he can’t help being grateful that the boy is able to eat pancakes at all.

Kaito thinks he would make Ouma a thousand pancakes with a thousand bags of chocolate chips if only the boy would stay to eat them and smile like an asshole and croon Kaito’s name back at him in the same shitty way he says thank you every morning, and that worries him.

Ouma worries him.

When Kaito finally crawls into bed at night and wraps himself around Shuichi, the other boy hesitantly curving back into him like he still doesn’t know if he’s allowed to, the light stays on in the living room.

Ouma doesn’t sleep in his room. They share a three-bedroom apartment and only one of the beds gets used; it’s a waste of money, in Kaito’s opinion (and he can’t help the way his fingers press into the coins they’ve won and the bills they have to pay and his grandparents’ letters from the hospital and the-), but he’s still not sure how to define what he and Shuichi have, and Ouma won’t admit to sleeping on the couch, or, well, lying awake on the couch until he either passes out from exhaustion or is greeted by Kaito once morning hits, so it’s a three-bedroom apartment they’ll stay in.

Or, maybe not. Because Ouma has just run out of the room in a way that Kaito can’t help but think the boy might be running out of their lives, too.

Kaito goes to follow, because he is always following Ouma, always on his tail, always just getting close enough to just catch a glimpse of the other boy’s face before he turns away and somehow picks up his pace, but Shuichi puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him before he can.

“It’ll be better to catch him back at the apartment rather than try to chase him here. Ouma-kun wouldn’t leave us without grabbing his things first.” The would-be detective has his hand to his mouth as he analyzes Ouma’s actions before Kaito can get ahead of himself.

Logically, Kaito knows he’s right; they may not have much in their apartment, yet, but Ouma is smart, and he’s not just gonna hit the road without at least grabbing some money and bare necessities. That doesn’t mean he likes the idea of letting Ouma think they’re not gonna follow after him, especially after his previous accidental confession.

Kaito frowns. Ouma had acted like the worst part about getting attached to someone was letting them know, like the truth would just disappear as long as it was left unacknowledged and unadmitted.

Well, fuck that. Ouma is not leaving without talking to the two of them. They’ve had too many whispered conversations about the other boy while lying in bed, bathed only in the light from the living room shining under their door and finding themselves a bit cold even with the body heat they already shared.

If they’ve ruined this already, then Kaito will take that responsibility, but not before he’s able to catch up to Ouma and grasp onto the edge of his scarf one last time.

Kaito and Shuichi hastily bid goodbye to the rest of the room before they leave the hospital and start the trip back to their nearby apartment.

Kaito used to think that Ouma was like a cat.

But there are things that ruin the comparison; the way Kokichi sometimes grows complacent when Kaito raises his voice too loud at him, the way his eyes go dim and he seems to exit his own body whenever he gets an injury that Shuichi frantically bandages while reassuring him that he’s not going to leave him alone. The way Kaito once caught him standing in front of the bathroom mirror and wrapping his own fingers around his scarfless neck, old cigarette burn scars peeking out from underneath the collar of his shirt, as if to test the validity of his breathing.

Kokichi is not a cat. Kokichi is not a cat, or a grand supreme leader, or a villain; Kokichi is a boy.

Kokichi is a boy that will not admit he is human but the truth still exists even when unacknowledged. Kokichi is a boy and he is not quite whole, and while he may be infuriating from time to time, all Kaito desperately wants to do is make sure all his pieces reside within their little apartment, even if they can’t quite put them back together yet.

Kokichi is just a boy in the same way that Shuichi is just a boy, in the same way that neither of them are just anything, in the same way that they are both so much more than they were ever supposed to be. In the same way that Kaito is in love with them both.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
